Broken
by Kate Sherrard
Summary: Connie is attacked
1. Chapter 1

**It was 2.30 on a Saturday morning and Connie was finally leaving the hospital. The last-minute emergency had been a long, complex operation and she knew that a lesser surgeon might not have pulled it off but she had. She saw this as further evidence that she was, in fact, the best cardiothorasic surgeon around, not that she needed any. Only once had she ever doubted that she was the best and she got over that fast enough. **

**By the time she had left theatre at gone one in the morning she decided that she had earned a stiff drink so she had called Michael, knowing that she was too tired to drive and would shortly be too drunk and asked him to pick her up. Despite the sleepy displeasure in his voice, a result of being woken up in the middle of the night, he agreed readily. She knew he wouldn't mind – it happened a couple of times a month that an operation would leave her so emotionally drained that she would call him to take her home and he always agreed. She would joke that it was because he could never refuse her anything, he would joke that if he were to refuse her anything she would be left with no option but to kill him and find an newer, more amenable, model. They both knew it was more than that. Michael had been in such a state of emotional exhaustion many times himself. He understood what she was going through when she couldn't save a patient and he understood her elation when she was able to bring a patient back from the brink. It was this level of understanding that made Michael the only man who had ever been in with a chance of taming his wife. It was this level of understanding that made her feel loved and special when they were together. It was this level of understanding that made their marriage work. **

**A broad smile crossed her face as she made her way through the hospital car park towards the footpath that led to Michael's preferred waiting place of the public car park. It had, in the end, turned out to be a very good day, despite it's less than brilliant start. She had lost a teenage girl on her table during what should have been a routine procedure and it had shaken her badly. The confrontation that ensued between herself and the girl's father who blamed Connie entirely for his daughter's death had done nothing for her confidence. By lunchtime she was already in desperate need of a stiff drink. It was then that things started to look up.**

**In the board meeting – never her favourite part of the week – Michael had fought her corner and agreed to relocate Keller ward in favour of a permanently expanded Darwin ward. The only thing that could have given her greater pleasure would have been to see Griffin's face when they told him. Later on Zubin, back at his obnoxious best, had given her numerous opportunities to belittle him and she had ensured that not a single chance went to waste. The supposedly friendly banter that scarcely covered the loathing between them had further brightened her day. Kahn baiting never failed to put her in a good mood. **

**To cap it all she had seduced Owen Davis for no reason other than she could and it would give her valuable ammunition for when he inevitably discovered that it was his ward she intended to cleave in half to make way for the new Keller. Now he wouldn't dare oppose her for fear that she would spill all to Diane. He didn't know that even she would not sink so low as to regard Diane Lloyd's marriage as simply a piece of collateral damage in her management technique. She seriously doubted that he had a great deal more respect for his marriage but if he wanted to destroy it himself, that was his problem. She had never stooped lower than gentle blackmail and idle threats in all her years climbing the career ladder and she wasn't about to start now.**

**Still grinning she turned into the dimly lit path that led to where Michael would be waiting. For a couple of moments she walked quietly along as she had dozens of times before but at the sight of a shadowy but undoubtedly male figure blocking her way her smile dropped and she emitted a gasp of surprise. For a moment her heart began to pound in her chest with fear but she was quickly overcome with a surge of relief as she moved closer to the dim street light where he stood and saw who it was. **

"**What are you doing here?' she asked with a relieved laugh in her voice 'At this hour of the morning…'**

'**Waiting for you' He replied, his voice level as He looked her up and down in a way that could only be described as predatory. It made her more than a little uncomfortable but she wasn't scared. He wouldn't hurt her – he wouldn't have the guts. **

'**Why?' she asked, genuinely mystified as he gave a brittle, mirthless laugh and a look crossed his face that made her blood run cold. **

'**Why do you think?' he retorted and moved towards her, grabbing her right arm as she tried to dodge past him and make her escape. With one movement that showed strength she had not credited him with, she was against the wall, her arms pinned above her head by one of his arms to prevent her from clawing out at him in a desperate bid to escape. His other arm began to wander idly down her body, hovering over her breasts and her lower abdomen before it reached down and pulled her skirt up with such strength that it tore. At this point, as she realised his intention, her hysterical pleading that eventually gave way to pitiful screams could be heard throughout the back of the hospital car park and the darkened alley but at 2.35 in the morning there was no one to hear her cries. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Michael was concerned; his wife was late for their agreed meeting. This in itself was not an unusual occurrence – under normal circumstances if she was on time then he had done something to upset her. What made this different, aside from the fact that it was the small hours of the morning, was that he had been waiting far longer than the fifteen minutes that she believed was her prerogative. A full hour had elapsed since their arranged meeting time and even Connie would always call should she be running that late, especially in the small hours of the morning. She knew how he worried. After waiting for 45 minutes he had called her mobile but got through to voice mail. After 50 minutes he had called her office but received no answer. This meant one of two things; either his wife was too drunk to successfully hear, locate and answer the phone or something had happened to her on the short walk to meet him. Praying to all the existing deities that it was the former he punched in the number of Darwin ward, waiting for one of the nurses to answer, hoping he got through to someone amenable. Eventually Tricia's gentle voice floated down the line and he felt a surge of relief; she was the one nurse in the hospital who would do just as he requested, no questions asked. **

'**I need you to tell me if Connie's still in her office' he asked once the niceties were out of the way, expecting to be put on hold while she looked. **

'**Mrs Beauchamp left about an hour ago' Tricia replied without hesitation or doubt and his heart dropped. **

'**Will you go and double check for me?' he asked and she agreed, returning moments later to report that the office was indeed empty and locked.**

'**Thanks Tricia' he sighed as he put the phone down and glanced around him, half expecting his wife to appear from the shadows, apologising profusely for her lack of punctuality. Quickly he resigned himself to the fact that it was not going to happen and realised that he needed to go and look for her. **

**Shivering slightly against the chill in the air, wondering why the world seemed twice as cold and twice as lonely in the small hours of the morning, he reached into the car and pulled out his long, dark, Mac. Thrusting his hands into the deep pockets he began the trudge up the path to the hospital, trying to overcome the sense of fear and dread that fluttered around his chest.**

**At first he didn't see her; didn't register her presence at his feet until he stumbled across her. As he turned to berate whoever was stupid enough to sit down in this narrow alley his expression chanced from outrage to shock and horror. **

'**What on earth has happened?' he asked softly, although seeing her huddled in a trembling heap, her skirt hitched up around her waist, he had a terrible sense that he knew. When she failed to reply he placed a tentative hand on her arm but she flinched away from his touch, emitting a high pitched yelp of terror as she struggled to get away from him. It was almost as if she didn't recognise him. As if she thought that he too was going to attack her. This terrified him more than the state she was in. **

'**Connie, will you let me take you back to the car?' he tried and her head snapped up with surprise. It was almost as if she had only just registered his presence or only just realised that it was him and not some other man who was desperately trying to calm her down. She stared at him for a moment, her eyes glazed over with shock and then she shook her head, as if she was dragging herself back to the land of the living. Slowly, painfully, she dragged herself to her feet and started to hobble towards the floodlit car park at the end of the alley way, brushing away his hand as he tried to help her, fearful that without his assistance she would not be able to stay upright for long. They walked painstakingly towards the car park, the silence only punctuated by her occasional whimpers that could have been down to fear, shock or pain. **

**Eventually they stepped out into the car park and he took in the full horror of his wife's appearance. Her wrists were ringed with dark bruises, clearly where she had been held down. Her clothes were filthy and her skirt was torn, a frantic rip made by a man impatient to get to what was beneath. Through the tear in the skirt he caught a glimpse of her upper thigh and saw that it was mottled with bruises. The more he saw, the more convinced he became that his initial assessment had been correct and one look in her haunted and fearful eyes removed any doubt there may have been. **

'**Who?' he asked quietly, not knowing what else to say. She just shook her head in utter hopelessness 'We should call the police and get you checked out' he added, knowing it was unlikely that she would agree to his suggestion. If she did he would be even more worried about her. **

'**Just take me home' she whispered eventually and there was desperation in her voice. He knew that she was right – if there was one thing guaranteed to make the whole ordeal worse for her it would be having people talking about it. It didn't matter whether it was her friends, her staff or some police men she had never met before, she would feel laughed at. The more people knew the worse she would feel and he knew that he couldn't allow that to happen; she had been through enough. Wordlessly he unlocked the car and opened the door for her, watching as she slid painfully onto the soft leather upholstery and stared, unseeing, out of the windscreen, too traumatised to even speak. Logically he knew that he should be trying to convince her to talk to the police but he couldn't bring himself to push her so instead he did as she asked. He turned the key in the ignition and took her home. **


	3. Chapter 3

**As soon as the door to the en-suite slammed behind her, separating her from her husband, she felt tears trickling down her cheeks. Slowly she peeled off her blouse, bra and what remained of her skirt and stood in front of the full length mirror surveying the damage. The bruises on her wrists she had expected and the red hand mark on her cheek where he had slapped her to silence her screams was also no surprise. What she hadn't expected were the brown and purple bruises that spread across her lower abdomen, crotch and upper thighs like dirty stains on the white silk of her skin. She looked as filthy as she felt. Turning to examine her clothes she saw that she had been bleeding. Considering the brutality of his attack she knew this was to be expected but still it surprised her. More than the bruises it made what had happened seem somehow more real. **

**Finally her brain switched onto autopilot and she grabbed a plastic bag, forcing her clothes into it, needing to remove anything that could possibly remind her of what had happened. The clothes he had torn from her that still bore horrific remnants of the attack seemed like as good a place as any to start. Finally she knotted the bag and opened the bathroom door, throwing them forcefully into the bedroom where they hit Michael with a dull thump. She heard him give a grunt of surprise and then pad from the room heading for the dustbin, instinctively knowing what she wanted him to do.**

**Slamming the door shut she was alone again. She switched on the shower to it's hottest setting, knowing that the heat would be unbearable but she couldn't think of any other way that she could possibly feel clean again. Stepping under the scorching stream she reached for a loofah and began to run it over her damp body, the physical pain she felt as it tore at her soft, damp skin numbing her emotional pain just enough to keep her from breaking down. She worked the loofah over her body suppressing cries of pain as the scalding water ran over flesh that had been scrubbed until it was raw and bleeding and waited to feel less tainted. **

**After twenty minutes of what felt like burning hot acid raining down on her increasingly tender body she realised that she could no longer put off examining the full extent of the damage. She started slowly, running her hands over her stomach that was bruised where he had punched her, continually needing to find new ways to release the hatred he felt for her. With every bruise she touched she would wince, working her way lower and lower until she reached her most sensitive area and released a cry of pain as her battered body protested at her rigorous examination. Biting her lip to suppress the tears, she remembered a time not so long ago when such exploration was a pleasurable experience. It had never occurred to her that it could be so painful.**

**Her cry must have been louder than she had realised because it bought Michael to the door. She knew he was there before he made a tentative tap on the door and asked if she was okay. She could visualise the wince that would undoubtedly cross his face as he asked such a pointless question.**

'**Connie, I…' he trailed off hopelessly, his legendary gift of the gab finally deserting him. He didn't know what to say to her; for every potential 'right' thing to say there was an equal likelihood that it would tip her over the edge. Standing in the shower with the burning water cascading over her she felt his desperation almost as acutely as she felt her own. **

'**I'm tired' she stated dully as she stepped from the shower, pulled a towel around her and froze. She didn't feel able to walk into the bedroom with a towel barely covering her body as she would have less than 24 hours ago. If she did that there was a risk that he would realise how filthy she really was and be disgusted with her. She couldn't bear that. **

'**Can you get me the stripped pyjamas?' she called, referring to an ancient pair of his pyjamas that she had taken to wearing on occasions where her own collection of skimpy silk camisoles and shorts weren't appropriate. Today was definitely a pyjama day. **

**Moments later when she emerged from the bathroom, the fluffy cotton of the pyjamas sticking to every inch of her raw flesh, she saw surprise register on his face at her modest and dishevelled appearance. It wasn't a state he had ever scene her in before and she could see that it unnerved him. **

'**What?' she snapped as she slid between the cool cotton sheets, her body tensing as he climbed in beside her and slipped an arm around her in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. To her it just felt suffocating. **

'**Nothing' he sighed heavily as she shut her eyes and was immediately besieged by images of what he had done to her. As she slipped into a sleep the names he had called her echoed abut her brain. Bitch. Whore. Control freak who has lost control. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hours passed and she began to toss and turn fitfully, as sleep eluded her and she was plagued with memories of what she had endured. He didn't move from his position beside her with his arms wrapped around her, even when her thrashing became almost more than he could stand. He needed to continue holding her – it was the only way he could think of to protect her from getting even more hurt and ending up even more broken. It destroyed him to see her so upset and even more to know that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Every frightened whimper she released was like a knife to his heart but he knew he could never release what he felt inside. The last thing she needed was for him to break down – someone had to be the strong one and for once it couldn't be his wife. Her attacker, whoever he was, had taken that from her. Even worse, he had stolen her control and her power, two things that were the essence of her personality.**

**When she did drop off into a restless sleep he knew that she was suffering from nightmares but he couldn't bring himself to wake her, knowing that she needed her sleep no matter how broken and restless it was. Instead he felt his own eyelids droop and he dozed beside her, knowing that he would be there for comfort her when she awoke. It was the only thing he could think of to do. **

**He had been asleep for no more than half an hour when her screaming penetrated his dreams and he realised that she was waving her arms in front of her, desperately struggling to escape her attacker, clearly reliving it all in her dreams. Slowly his brain came into focus and he realised he couldn't possibly let her continue in this state. **

'**Connie' he leaned over and shook her lightly, not flinching as her right hand connected sharply with his left shoulder and she dug her nails into him, unaware that it was her husband and not her attacker who she was hurting. **

'**Get away from me' came her terrified scream and she thrashed some more, hitting him alongside his left cheek causing him to lose his balance and crash down onto the bed, immediately sitting up again as he prepared to re-enter the battle to return her to consciousness. For a moment he contemplated pinning her hands to the bed so he could attempt to wake her without running the risk of receiving a black eye for his troubles but he quickly realised that would be the worst thing he could do. Pinning her down by her arms had been what her attacker had done and he couldn't bring himself to do that to her. Instead he leapt to his feet and sprinted to the far side of the room where he switched on the light, praying that it would wake her. It didn't. If anything her thrashing and screaming became more frantic as she slipped deeper into the dream. The nonsensical screams she released chilled him to the bone as he desperately tried to come up with yet another way to wake her but he feared that he was out of options. **

'**Get off me…' her voice rose with hysteria as she started to once again scream out coherent words, cries of absolute desperation 'please, get off me Zubin' she repeated and he froze in his tracks, barely able to believe what he was hearing. Zubin Kahn, the man who's job he had saved only weeks before had done this to her. **

'**Connie, please wake up' he knelt by her, ducking low to avoid the flailing limbs, praying that she would come back to him 'sweetheart, it's me. Please, just wake up' he added and tentatively shook her shoulder, feeling relief surge through his body as her arms returned to the bed and her eyes snapped wide open in horror.**

'**Michael' she whispered eventually, her breathing heavy with panic, her face clammy with fear, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks. **

'**I'm here' he whispered and stroked her hair lightly, moving damp curls from her forehead as she lay, pinned by horror to the bed. She was trembling with fear and her screams had given way to small whimpers but the torture inflicted on her by her mind had not abated. She was just learning to deal with it. **

'**I'm going to…' she trailed off as she pushed him from her path and shot from the bed towards the bathroom where she knelt at the toilet and heaved over and over again until she didn't think there could possibly be anything left inside. Feeling utterly helpless Michael had followed and rubbed her back in rhythmic circles as her stomach lurched and she threw up.**

'**Do you want to come back to bed?' he asked softly as she lay back in his arms, her whole body trembling with exhaustion from the nightmare followed by the effort of being sick. He had never seen anyone look so vulnerable, let alone his strong, beautiful wife. She was destroyed; utterly broken. The worst part was that he knew exactly how Zubin would justify his actions. At the hands of the highly strung medical director she had once been he had endured months of belittling and professional mind-games that bordered upon bullying. He did what he did to prove to himself and to her that he was better than her. That he was, despite the aspersions she liked to cast, a 'real' man. In his mind the proof of this lay in the way he had beaten her into submission. Just the thought of it filled Michael with rage. **

'**I'd like to take a shower' she eventually spoke, bringing him back from his rage and hate filled reverie. Glancing down at her body he stifled a sigh. He would have to be blind not to see what she had done to herself and he knew that if he allowed her to take another shower she would simply remove another few layers of skin until her entire body was weeping and painful. **

'**Perhaps a bath' he suggested quietly 'a nice warm bath' he nodded, emphasising the word 'warm'. He knew as well as she did that her first shower had been little short of scalding – the plumes of steam that rose under the bathroom door told him as much. **

'**No, a shower' she repeated 'I'm all sticky' she gestured towards her arm that was sticky with sweat and broken skin.**

'**Do you want me to wait with you?' he suggested, reasoning that at least if he was here with her he could attempt to curb the worst excess of her behaviour. From the look of horror that crossed her face he saw that he had said the wrong thing and in his heart he knew why. She felt ashamed of her body and what had been done to it. She was so ashamed she couldn't even bring herself to allow her husband to see her any more. **

'**I want to take a shower, alone' she snapped, turning and switching on the shower to it's highest setting once again. For a moment he paused, debating his next move and he was left with only one option. He nodded slowly and methodically removed the loofah, his razor and any other sharp or abrasive instrument that she could use to harm herself. As a final precaution he removed several packets of painkillers from the cabinet and threw them onto the bed.**

'**What on earth are you doing?' she asked in surprise as he glanced around him, satisfied that there were no implements of self harm left for her to use. **

'**Headache' he muttered gesturing to the painkillers 'I'll wait in the bedroom'**

'**Pass me that sponge' she gestured to a particularly coarse sea-sponge that had come back from a long ago holiday in Madera. It was easily abrasive enough for her to inflict some serious damage and he silently cursed his lack of attention as he passed it to her and went into the bedroom to wait while his wife scrubbed her skin raw. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Unsurprisingly she had slept badly. Every time she shut her eyes she saw him leering over her as he pinned her down and did as he wanted with her. It was so vivid she could she could smell his aftershave and it almost choked her. She could feel his stale breath on her upper body as he moved inside her, the level of activity clearly more than his body was used to. She could feel his hands moving over her body and her skin crawled accordingly. Physically it might be over but she was constantly reliving it, playing the attack in her mind like a video on a permanent loop. **

**At one point her thrashing had disturbed Michael to the extent that he had felt the need to wake her and she had to admit that she was glad he did. The only point during the night when she hadn't been plagued by images of the attack was for the few moments when he woke her and held her with gentleness she had forgotten he was capable of. He had held her as though she was something incredibly delicate and precious and while she knew that soon enough he would see her for what she was it was nice while it lasted. **

**Sleepily she turned to him and ran one hand across her face, wiping the sleep from her eyes and wincing as it moved across her bruised cheek.**

'**What time is it?' she murmured and Michael silently drew his left wrist up so his watch was level with his face and looked at it before lethargically moving the limb down to the bed again**

'**Three' he mumbled, rolling onto his side to face her 'we've been asleep for six hours'**

'**Speak for yourself' she snapped, wishing she had managed any sleep at all. Instead she had lain on her back replaying the attack in her mind, thinking of all the ways that it could have been avoided from being better at her job or an all round nicer human being to having Michael pick her up outside the doors to the hospital. Hindsight can be a terrible thing. Occasionally her thoughts would be interrupted by his gentle snoring but for once it didn't grate on her. It just stopped her feeling so alone. **

'**You didn't drop off?' he asked and she shook her head hopelessly feeling tears prick at her exhausted eyes 'Do you want me to pop out later and pick you up some sleeping tablets?' he suggested but she shook her head. She could think of nothing worse than being stuck in a drug induced, nightmare filled, sleep from which Michael would stand no chance of rousing her. At the mere thought she felt her chest tighten with panic.**

'**Tea' she announced with a slight reverence in her voice. When she was growing up tea was her mother's cure for all ills. Boyfriend trouble, unpleasant landlord or rubbish exam results, her mother firmly believed that the answer lay in a cup of tea. If nothing else, fiddling with cups and teabags could easily buy a valuable five minutes to formulate a considered reply. These days she almost always drank coffee but there were times in her life when only a cup of strong tea would do. **

'**I'll get it' Michael immediately hopped from the bed and pulled on his dressing gown but she shook her head and climbed from the bed, wincing as the sheets peeled from the raw skin of her arms and a dull throb settled over every part of her anatomy between her rib cage and her knee caps. **

'**I'll do it' she sighed, dragging her weary body down the stairs to the kitchen, finding no joy in lying in bed with her torturous thoughts while Michael fussed over her. Not so long ago it would have been her favourite way to spend a Saturday but today it was her worst nightmare. There was no joy to be found in thinking when the thoughts in question were violent, intense flashbacks of an attack that was horrendous when it was inflicted and grew in horror with every time it passed through her mind. **

'**Is there anything I can do?' he asked dully as he followed her to the kitchen and slumped into a chair 'Anything you need or…'**

'**Time' she told him tiredly 'Space. Or perhaps company' she shook her head furiously 'I don't know, I just don't know'**

'**Have you thought any more about reporting this?' his question was utterly unwelcome but utterly predictable. In her heart she knew he wouldn't just drop the matter of police action. He couldn't possibly understand how humiliating it would be if it got out that she had been attacked and worse, who it was who had done the attacking. She would be talked about and she would be laughed at. She had always thought she held all the cards. Always believed that nothing he did could touch her or damage her in any way. How the mighty are fallen. He had hurt her more than anyone could possibly understand. In his warped mind he probably saw this as justice for everything she had put him through but he was so wrong. He had destroyed her from the inside out – all her confidence had gone and without that there was really very little left – but despite this she knew that she would never report him. To talk to the police would be to confront her greatest fear; that she would not be believed. To be considered a liar would be the ultimate insult and she couldn't take that risk so she knew she wouldn't report it. Instead she would take a few days off until the worst of the bruises healed and the nightmares eased and then she would replace her defences and return to the hospital. Of course it would be a struggle to work amicably alongside him and Michael would doubtless find it just as hard but the fact that it would be uncomfortable for Zubin was a small comfort to her. Furthermore the only way she had left to punish him was to make him see that he hadn't broken her despite his best efforts. That was a thought that she knew would keep her going no matter how hard it got and it was going to be hard but she didn't see that she had a lot of choice.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Days passed and nothing got any easier – they just got better at coping. Michael spent every second of every day walking on eggshells, terrified of upsetting her, invariably managing to find the worst possible thing to say and say it. He wasn't sure whether she hated him for it as much as he hated himself. They were both utterly exhausted from a lack of sleep and a surfeit of emotion. On a nightly basis she would manage about an hour's sleep before retreating to the kitchen, terrified to fall asleep and relive the inevitable nightmare again, and he couldn't bring himself to sleep knowing that she was sitting beneath him lost in her own personal hell. Instead he sat with her for hours, saying nothing, just being there. **

**A week passed and her bruises had all but healed. Gradually she was sleeping for a little longer each night and each morning she would wake with more of her legendary defences built around her. She thought she was getting back to normality. Now only Michael could see beyond the façade to the pain that lay within. It was on the Monday about ten days following the attack that she surprised him by walking into the kitchen wearing her favourite Gucci suit and Prada heels, an outfit that never failed to put her in a good mood. He immediately knew that this was her way of telling him she was ready to place the final piece of the jigsaw that was rebuilding her life. She had clearly decided it was time that she got over the 'flu' she had been off work with for over a week and returned to her domain. **

'**You look nice' he said slowly, praying that it was the right thing to say. These days she would lash out at the most innocuous comment and he never knew what would provoke the next attack.**

'**I have to go back to work at some point' she snapped defensively, clearly finding some implied criticism in his comment although there had been none 'today is as good a day as any other'**

'**I just said you looked nice' he replied sadly and returned to his paper, wishing that she would stop being so defensive 'are you sure you're ready for this?' he added throwing caution to the wind. Since she was taking even the most innocuous compliment as an insult these days he couldn't see what he had to lose.**

'**I can't hide away forever' she replied dully 'the longer I leave it the harder it will be. He won't try anything at the hospital anyway'**

'**Do you honestly think you'll be able to make small talk over the triple bypass like you used to?' he asked and she stared furiously at him, amazed that he didn't seem to be able to understand her any more. This added fuel to her fear that her marriage would be the next casualty of the attack. **

'**I don't think that I have a lot of choice, Michael' she snapped angrily 'All my hiding away here for the rest of my days will achieve is that he will think he's won. He will have won. I won't have that'**

'**I suppose' he agreed reluctantly, knowing her well enough to know that she wouldn't be persuaded. All he could do now was wait to pick up the pieces because he couldn't believe that Zubin would be able to resist a quiet gloating word in her ear at the very least.**

'**Are you working today?' she asked and he shrugged. He had intended to take time off work until he felt he could leave her alone but if she was working there was nothing stopping him 'will you drive me in?'**

'**Of course' he sighed heavily, knowing that there was no point in arguing about it. It was a row he couldn't hope to win. **

**By the time they pulled up in their executive parking space the façade was in place. To anyone who didn't know better she seemed confident, she seemed arrogant and she seemed cold. Only to Michael did she seem broken. **

'**Are you sure you're ready for this?' he asked softly as he put on the hand brake and turned to her, concern burning in his eyes.**

'**As I'll ever be…' she took a deep breath and threw open the car door. For a moment she paused, her face glazing over as she laid eyes on the location of her nightmares and he thought she was going to throw up. Then, just as quickly, the haunted expression was replaced with a large, almost certainly false, smile and she greeted her approaching colleague with something that looked a lot like pleasure. **

'**Are you feeling better?' he heard Tricia enquire with an element of caring in her voice as they headed for the lift that would take them to Darwin. The doors closed before he had a chance to get in himself so he had no choice but to wait for the next lift to take him up to the executive floor. As he hovered he caught sight of the person he had hoped to hear had met an untimely end during their week off. Clearly he wasn't going to be so lucky.**

'**Michael' Zubin gave him a cursory nod as they waited for the next lift**

'**Zubin' he replied, barely able to disguise the hostility in his voice. This man, this pathetic little worm, was the monster who had destroyed his wife and now by some cruel twist of fate he had to work alongside him as though nothing had happened. **

'**After you' a smile crossed Zubin's face and Michael stepped in first, struggling to rein in his natural instinct to show the other man the true meaning of pain. He was certain that Connie wouldn't thank him for it but the mere idea of Zubin going unpunished made him feel physically sick. **

'**ITU?' he asked as the doors closed and he went to press the relevant buttons**

'**No, executive floor. I have a meeting with Joanna' Zubin gave a slimy smile as it occurred to Michael that he was going to have 8 floors one on one with Zubin. More than enough time to let him know what he thought of him**


	7. Chapter 7

'**Good week off?' Zubin enquired politely as the lift passed the first floor on it's journey to the highest level in the hospital. Still he appeared blissfully unaware that Michael had the first idea what he had done to his wife. Either that or he was so arrogant he believed that Michael would never seek to confront him about it. That the Beauchamp's would just brush it under the carpet and pretend it had never happened. Conveniently forgetting that this was exactly what Connie wished to do he turned to Zubin preparing to say something, anything, that would make the other man realise that he knew everything that had happened. **

'**Not especially' he turned, scouring his mind for some intelligent, preferably witty comment that only Zubin would see the true meaning of. Inconveniently he found himself suddenly unable to form a coherent sentence. Cursing silently as the lift rode past floor 4 and he realised that time was running out and this was going to be just another lost opportunity something amazing happened – almost as if by divine intervention the lift clunked, creaked and drew to a halt, the lights dimming and then dying completely.**

'**What's going on?' Zubin looked around the stationary lift in surprise as Michael calmly reached for the emergency phone, wondering how much time this little interruption would buy him. When the hassled receptionist finally picked up she informed him that an inept electrician had drilled through the electrics for the lifts and they were stranded until a qualified engineer arrived. That could be anything between fifteen minutes and three hours. **

'**It could take a while' he told Zubin dully as he replaced the phone 'something about an incompetent electrician'**

'**Right' Zubin slid down the wall so he was sitting with his head in his hands 'I've never been good with confined spaces'**

'**Really?' Michael sat next to him, allowing himself a small smile at Zubin's clear unease. It was nothing compared to what Michael wished to inflict but mild claustrophobia was a nice added bonus. **

'**So, what did you do with your time off?' Zubin asked conversationally and Michael suppressed a look of surprise. Either Zubin was incredibly stupid or he liked sailing close to the wind. Surely he could see that if Michael knew the details of what had happened to Connie then even the most restrained man would be hard pressed not to rise to this particular bait. Michael was not a man famed for his self-restraint. **

'**Connie hasn't been well' he replied slowly 'she's needed some looking after'**

'**No, I heard' a small smile crossed Zubin's face 'flu wasn't it?'**

'**That was the official line, yes' Michael gave a cold glare in Zubin's direction but it seemed to have no effect. The other man just stared straight ahead, almost as if he had no idea that something more serious had happened. Despite knowing that doubting himself was almost certainly the effect Zubin desired Michael started to panic. Connie was still refusing to tell him who it was who had attacked her, at least not while she was conscious. Perhaps he had read the situation all wrong but something told him that he hadn't. **

'**Official line?' Zubin enquired with a forced lightness to his voice 'you mean there is something else?' **

'**It's a lot more complicated than flu' he turned to Zubin coldly 'she's been suffering from nightmares and generally very distressed' **

'**Post traumatic thing after Will?' Zubin asked with a raised eyebrow that gave him an even greater air of arrogance. There was now no doubt that the two men were on the same page but neither of them were about to admit it.**

'**No, she was attacked…' Michael informed him, fighting to keep the emotion from his voice as he thought of what his wife had been through. **

'**Attacked' Zubin stated dully and an expression of discomfort crossed his face, as if it was the first time it had occurred to him that there was even a chance that Michael knew what had happened. **

'**Yes' Michael turned to him 'but then, you knew that didn't you?' **

'**What?' Zubin looked completely stunned but Michael homed in on the fear in his eyes, his rage reaching new heights as he fought to restrain his natural urge to respond with his fists. **

'**Connie was devastated when I found her' Michael stated, backing Zubin in a corner, almost out of instinct. He wanted Zubin to have to look him in the eye if he wanted to deny what he had done 'after she was raped. After you raped her' he added, watching Zubin's facial expression move rapidly through shock, panic, fear, arrogance and shock again. Either he hadn't expected Connie to have the guts to speak out or he had expected her to be too ashamed to tell anyone. He was now in no doubt that he had underestimated her relationship with Michael. **

'**She told you that did she?' he replied eventually, a sneer crossing his face as he clearly decided that attack was the best form of defence. **

'**Yes' Michael felt a faint flush creep up his face as he told the lie but he stifled it with the thought that it wasn't a lie as such. Zubin didn't state that Connie had to be conscious when she told him and that was irrelevant now anyway. He was in no doubt about Zubin's guilt. **

'**Why on earth would I do that?' Zubin emitted a smug laugh that made Michael's skin crawl with rage 'why would anyone rape Connie? You only have to ask and it's on a plate – rape is utterly unnecessary where she is concerned' he finished with a sneer that Michael wiped from his face, finally unable to hold back any longer. He had expected at least a little remorse from Zubin; in spite of his feelings about him, he had assumed that the attack was a moment of blinding rage on his part that he would bitterly regret once he came to his senses. Seeing that he saw it as a joke had been the final straw and he sent his fist crashing into Zubin's rib cage, watching as he buckled against the wall of the lift with a satisfying crack.**

'**Do you have the first idea what you've done?' he dragged Zubin whimpering to his feet and pushed him hard into the corner, bracing him against the cold metal with one arm, poising the other in preparation to hit him again 'Do you know how much you've hurt her? This has broken her; you took away her power, her control, her free will. You made her worst nightmare a reality and for what? An extension of your professional sparring? A power game? A joke? I don't understand it; what possible reason could you have to destroy her like this?'**

'**Destroy her?' Zubin laughed out loud at this 'She looked fine to me. Her normal loathsome self'**

'**That's all a front. It has only ever been a front' Michael took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing 'She's. Not. That. Strong' he shouted, punching Zubin for every word that he yelled, finally feeling release flood through him as he gave Zubin what he so richly deserved. In his blinding rage he hardly noticed the lights flash and come back on. He didn't hear the doors hiss open over his own shouting. He didn't realise he had an audience until an all too familiar voice called out his name, a mixture of surprise and horror evident in her voice. Slowly he turned and saw Connie standing in front of the lift, staring at him in horror, behind her the collected staff of both Darwin and Keller watching the heated exchange with utter fascination. Releasing Zubin immediately he stepped from the lift, not looking back as the other man crumpled to the ground in a winded heap and several nurses descended upon him to help him. **

'**My office' Connie stated but despite the ice in her voice she couldn't prevent the quiver 'now' she added and strode off down the corridor with her husband following guiltily in her wake. **


	8. Chapter 8

'**Why?' she turned to him as the door slammed behind them, separating them from their staff who had watched their retreat with unconcealed fascination. He just stared at her. It was a simple question that she asked but he couldn't begin to formulate an answer. **

'**It was what he deserved' he replied eventually, unable to look her in the eye and see disappointment burning in their depths. He knew it wasn't what she would want him to do. He knew that she just wanted to forget all about it and pretend it had never happened. His hot-headed rage had taken the choice out of her hands. Suddenly he felt like he was as bad as Zubin. **

'**It was what he wanted' Connie retorted, exasperation in her voice, tears in her eyes 'thanks to you the entire ward knows what he did to me. Thanks to you he knows that what he did affected me, that he destroyed me. Thanks to you he's won'**

'**Won' Michael repeated, unable to understand the tangent that the conversation had taken. Surely Zubin had 'won' the moment that he forced himself upon her. No matter how brave she was or how strong her front surely he would know the effect his actions had upon her. The only way Connie could reclaim any kind of victory in this twisted battle was to ensure that Zubin received the punishment that he deserved and she seemed unwilling to do that. It was something that Michael had never truly understood, although he could hazard a guess at her reasons for not wanting to report the attack. **

'**Yes' she took a deep breath, preparing to explain herself but resenting every word she uttered in an attempt to justify feelings that she felt she really shouldn't have to justify. Especially not to Michael. 'rape isn't about sex, it's about power. When Zubin raped me it was about him proving that where it mattered he was more powerful than me. He wanted to prove that he could break me…' she trailed off as the tears started, streaming down her face before she could stop them. Tentatively Michael moved forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her but she brushed it off and turned her back to him and gazing out of the window, suddenly finding the car park fascinating. **

'**I'm sorry' he murmured to her back, hoping she would turn back to him. She didn't. Instead she took a deep breath and began to speak again.**

'**Why do you think I came back here today Michael?' her voice was suddenly harsh and icy and she turned back towards him and gave him a look that he had never seen before. Or at least never received before. It was a look of disgust. A look that said that she didn't think he was worthy of her valuable time. **

'**Because it's your job' he replied quietly. One look at her face told him that this was the wrong answer.**

'**I could get a new job' she snapped 'I could walk away from this place and never look back. I came back because I wanted to show Zubin that he couldn't beat me. That he isn't better, stronger or more powerful than me. That he hasn't broken me' she started to rant and he released a quiet 'ah' as he realised quite how angry she was. When he had confronted Zubin in the lift he had told him that Connie was distraught. He had told him just how much his actions had affected her when all she wanted was for him to think that she had continued with her life. She didn't want him to feel guilt at what he had done; she wanted him to feel disappointment that he hadn't achieved his ultimate aim of destroying her. **

'**and do you know what you did? You told him that he'd won. I thought you knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't want that but now I don't have the choice. Another little piece of power taken from me but when it's you taking my control away' she shuddered slightly and his guilt intensified 'that feels worse than anything he could possibly to do me'**

'**I'm sorry' he repeated again and she turned away, gazing down at the car park for a long time before she turned back to him with unshed tears glistening in her eyes.**

'**I'm sorry Michael' she paused for a moment 'I don't think we can come back from this'**

'**I'm sorry' he repeated for a third time as she threw open the office door and stood like a sentry, clearly waiting for him to leave. For a moment he considered refusing to go in favour of staying and apologising to her until she was forced to listen but he knew that she would hate that so instead he slunk away to his office to avoid Zubin and lick his wounds. **


	9. Chapter 9

**She had left the hospital long before him, unable to bear the whispers and told him that she would see him at home. It was the only remotely civil thing she had managed to say to him since the scene with Zubin. What concerned him was that the house was utterly deserted with the exception of two cases packed to capacity and sitting in the hall. In his limited experience packed cases were rarely a good sign. For a moment he looked around for any sign of his wife but found only her beige coat hanging in the hall. Considering it was pouring outside he chose to take this a positive indication that she was still in the vicinity and began to slowly move around the house, not wanting to scare her by creeping up on her. He wondered only briefly whether the cases contained his belongings or hers. **

**Eventually he found her in the garage stacking her car with the two smaller cases that came as a set with the luggage in the hall. He cleared his throat loudly, still acutely wary of scaring her. When she didn't respond he placed a hand on her shoulder and she whipped around, more angry than frightened which would have been a good sign except that her anger seemed to be entirely directed at him. **

'**What are you doing?' he finally managed to ask as she stormed past him and returned moments later dragging one of the cases from the hall behind her. She never had grasped the concept of travelling light and now she was paying for it. **

'**Leaving' she said slowly as if she was talking to a complete idiot. It took him a while to remember that idiot was a generous assessment of her feelings for him. She was livid with him and on one of her many controlled but furious phone calls to him over the course of the day, she had informed him that she no longer trusted him. Fortunately that didn't stop her having the presence of mind to ask their lawyers to politely persuade Zubin not to press charges for the assault in the lift, something that hadn't occurred to Michael. To do that he knew she had to tell the lawyer about the rape and he knew what that had cost her – the lawyer was an old friend of her father and while he promised confidentiality they both knew that at best, half of her parents' circle of friends would know by the time the evening was out. It was another humiliation that she blamed upon him as much as Zubin. As she had repeatedly told him, Zubin attacking her was bad, Michael making it common knowledge was worse. **

'**Why?' he asked slowly, wondering if she wanted to get away from Holby and Zubin or from him as well. After today he wouldn't be surprised, nor would he blame her. Increasingly he felt that he didn't deserve to be married to someone like Connie. **

'**Nothing to stay for' she replied with a shrug 'I have staff who aren't sure whether to laugh at me or pity me, Zubin still working for me and a hospital I can't set foot in without my skin crawling. I think I need a new start'**

'**Possibly' he admitted doubtfully, relieved that she hadn't mentioned him in her list of reasons 'but you have to give 6 weeks notice…'**

'**In light of today Joanna agreed I could take 6 weeks extended holiday and then resign officially' she told him dully 'I'll get myself a new job once I'm settled'**

'**Isn't this what you were desperate to avoid? Him driving you out of your job, your home and your life' he asked slowly and she stared at him, once again giving a look of astonishment that he was quite so stupid. **

'**It's you who has made it impossible for me to stay' she snapped and shame washed over him as he realised once again that she was right. That he had made a bad situation a million times worse when all he had wanted was to make it better for her. **

'**But it isn't impossible for you to stay' he protested quietly, willing to say anything to keep her with him. There was nothing he could say to make the situation worse now – it was about as bad as it could possibly get 'if you run away then he really will have taken everything from you – from us. Is that what you want?' **

'**No Michael, I didn't want any of this' she sighed and a solitary tear escaped her eye and made slow progress down her cheek until, almost instinctively, Michael reached out and wiped it away with his thumb.**

'**Stay' he said with a faint note of pleading in his voice 'running isn't the answer. You know that as well as I do and the Connie I married would never run away from anything'**

'**Well maybe I'm not the person you married Michael. Maybe I never will be again' her voice was suddenly cold but he knew that it was just a front. That even though he had seen her at her most vulnerable she still felt unable to show her true feelings in his presence. **

'**I don't mind' he told her, throwing caution to the wind and putting his arms around her. To his relief she didn't push him away so he held her a little closer and she leaned her head on his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne 'you'll always be my Connie, nothing can change that'**

'**So come with me' she looked up at him, her tearful eyes pleading with him to agree but he knew that he couldn't. Despite what she had told him he still believed that running away wasn't the answer. That in the long run it would be better for Connie if they stayed in Holby and faced what had happened together. It was a conclusion he had taken far too long to reach but he knew now that it was the right one.**

'**Or we could stay in Holby' he took a deep breath 'show that we're too strong to be driven away by one pathetic little man's aggression. That he can't destroy our lives and break us like this…' he trailed off as an expression of surprise crossed her face. This wasn't how she had expected him to react and she wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it.**

'**You want us to go back there tomorrow and…' she pulled a face that was etched with disgust and surprise 'face him?'**

'**Yes' he agreed with a small smile 'You said it yourself; that would be the best punishment of all' he finished and watched her face as she processed his suggestion, thinking every possible outcome through to it's eventual conclusion. Eventually she came out of the almost trance-like state that she had entered and walked towards the car, her left hand toying with her keys as she moved forward. For a horrible moment he thought that she was going to get in and drive away but she didn't. Instead she opened the boot and pulled out one case, then the other and locked the car again, turning to him with a nervous smile, a look of uncertainty in her eyes that he hadn't seen for years. As she walked past him, pressing a case into his hand as she passed, he knew that they were going to be alright. **


End file.
